


In Harness

by cognomen



Series: Confession Continuum. [2]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognomen/pseuds/cognomen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: Sebastian/Fenris Intercrural sex. Special attention to Fenris' lyrium tattoos, especially the ones on his thighs.  Only instead it kind of turned more into a character exploration of Sebastian; sex included.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Harness

"You should let me-" Fenris' guilt is almost felt more than heard, with his head ducked down to push his face against Sebastian's neck. All his efforts to the current have not yet gotten Fenris to raise his eyes when he asks for - allows himself to want - anything. It's the slow peeling away of self denial that Sebastian finds so intoxicating. The proposal itself had been made with such a reserve, that Sebastian was utterly incapable of giving a negative answer - though the positive had been made with conditions. Fenris had seemed equally relieved and terrified by his acceptance - as if he'd built himself up for rejection; perhaps even sought Sebastian as the most likely person to reject him.

It almost hurts to hear how much guilt pours against the tie of his neck to shoulder, How much it must strip Fenris bare to want something only for himself. Sebastian feels the shift, the intent fingers that work in hesitant motions southward between them, finding space as they both surge in motion together.

"It isn't about me." Sebastian affirms, though he's been perhaps allowing himself some pleasure in the way his fingers are slowly mapping the lyrium-lines under flesh and visible through. They were fascinating, even if Fenris seemed to feel as if he should be ashamed of them - it wasn't the power they allowed that attracted Sebastian's attention, but how the looping lines over Fenris' thighs seemed made to draw attention, or perhaps echoed the way Fenris' ire lashed out only to curl back on itself again. The patterns (if not the pain they caused) seemed to suit him. As if they had become his very definition. 

Sebastian won't deny that he's hard - not after so long with no temptation - as if his desires had one day drifted away, carried off with so many repetitions of the Chant. Instead, he blocks access, pressing his palm flat along most of his own length, pushing the erection flat against his own stomach. 

Fenris' hand covers his there as he surges slowly, slick sliding between Sebastian's thighs in a trick Sebastian had learned in a less worthy fashion - the gesture is almost shockingly intimate. Fenris makes no coaxing attempts to change Sebastian's mind, unlike so many who had insisted their way through Sebastian's boundaries (welcomed, when the borders had been unfirmed by devotion). He's not entirely sure he could resist now, if Fenris insisted. It would be easy for Fenris to push, and Sebastian to lose conviction, and yet Fenris accepts the boundary and settles comfortably against it. Sebastian is sorry that it has to be there.

Sebastian wonders if he might have gone to the Chantry sooner - or perhaps not at all, had he met Fenris earlier in his life. Had the maker seen fit to show him this path sooner - or perhaps he would not have been ready for it. For Fenris' intensity.

For how much of himself he could transmit through action, fingers of one hand clawing into Sebastian's back like he might simply sink into the mire of the world without his solidarity. Sebastian knew the signs of a man coming apart.

With his clarity unhindered by his own pleasure, he feels Fenris' pace stutter into insistancy, losing all rhythm and becoming all drive. He feels the scrape of teeth against his neck, the way Fenris bares them (bares his whole self to acknowledging need) into it. The intake of breath, fingers grasping at both their holds, that last hard-forward push that shifts the both of them. This close, and undistracted, he he hears the small wonder that paints itself out in Fenris' voice - free of it's pained growl, but low and pleased and wonderful.

Within his vows, he could still give, and he'd trade all his nights of selfish taking for what he could receive without ever having to let his own needs rule. His pleasures had changed when he had changed.

His release was, instead, reward. A full knowledge of the loops and curls described under Fenris' skin, that could only make a (poor) poetic attempt to describe who he was entirely. A moment of bared soul and need, subjugated. Their breaths match as they slow, echoing, and Sebastian - for just a moment - wonders who is really holding him to a promise he made in solitude, years ago.

Judging by this moment of clear understanding of another being, the Maker allows some leniency.


End file.
